A Dangerous Business

Well, I’m here. In Aotearoa. Still not fully comprehending what I’m about to go and do over the next 4-5 months. The sheer scale of this trail is simply absurd, throwing much of my regular hiking preparation routine out the window. To give an example, on the Carnarvon Great Walk and Great Ocean Walk I experimented with some basic dinner recipes that would be a whole lot cheaper than simply carrying pre-made dehydrated meals. The main basis for them was instant ramen or rice mixed with various seasonings and other additions, albeit in small quantities. Packaging those meals for a 4 or 5 day walk is easy enough, I can just buy a jar, measure out what I need into a zip-loc bag, and leave the rest at home. I don’t have that option here, home is 2000 km northwest and I don’t really want to be carrying multiple glass jars for long periods of time. Granted I haven’t actually been to any supermarkets yet, so there might be some good alternatives that I can use.

Anyway, enough ranting about seasonings, what’s been happening since my last post? Honestly, not a great deal. I moved back in with my parents the weekend prior to leaving, which thankfully wasn’t that much of a hassle. I played a final round of disc golf on Sunday, tidied my room up on Monday, and sold my car the morning before flying out.

It’s at this point that I must confess I started packing a bit too late, with no good reason other than I was lazy. With that said, my bag was fully packed with 30 minutes before I was due to leave for the airport. All I needed to get were my boots…

Uh, where are my boots?

WHY ARE MY BOOTS NOWHERE IN THIS HOUSE???

I searched every nook and cranny for them to no avail. Then it dawned on me. During the moving out process at my old place, I made several mental notes that my boots were next to the front door and that I shouldn’t forget them before I leave. I was sure I had packed them into my car, but just to be sure I texted my friends…

My boots were still there, they hadn’t moved an inch. One impromptu drive later, I finally had them in my possession, but that little detour had cost me 45 minutes. I’d still make my flight with time to spare, but – and this is gonna sound very odd to anyone normal – it meant I wouldn’t be spending as much time in the terminal as I’d want to. I know, I’m a strange child, I like waiting for my flights. With that said, I thankfully still had time to have afternoon tea with my fam before heading down the V1 escalators (lil aviation joke for y’all, happy to explain in the comments).

Side note about the photo above: it’s gonna be real fun seeing what my hair looks like when I get back because I don’t plan on cutting it for the duration of my hike (sorry mum).

Immigration was a breeze and I only had to wait for half and hour before it was time to board a well-seasoned Jetstar A320.

For any readers outside of Australia, Jetstar has, shall we say, a bit of an infamous reputation over here, mostly surrounding the reliability – or lack thereof – of their flights. It’s not uncommon for them to be cancelled at the last minute or to be delayed by a stupid number of hours. This very flight about a week prior left Brisbane 2 hours late, only arriving in Auckland at 1am! But hey, when I booked this flight back in March, they were over $100 cheaper than the mainline carriers, so I was prepared to take that risk.

Turns out I needn’t have worried. We pushed back 10 minutes early and I had somehow got an entire row to myself. A quick check of my pits determined that it wasn’t because I smelt bad but rather the seats next to me just hasn’t been booked. Once in the air, I kept glimpsing at the Moreton and North Stradbroke islands, the last pieces of Australian soil that I’d lay my eyes on for over 4 months. The flight itself was thankfully uneventful and we were soon descending into Auckland Airport, landing 20 minutes ahead of schedule. Getting through customs was a bit of a faff because I was carrying a lot of gear that had been used outdoors and New Zealand has some of the strictest biosecurity laws in the world. Everything had been cleaned, so I wasn’t worried about any of it not being able to enter the country, it was more that it needed to be checked pretty thoroughly. Once that was done, I booked my first ever Uber (shout out to Mohammed) into the city and my hostel, finally checking in around 12:40am.

I slept in till around 9ish, awoken by some lovely hunger pangs. Typically I’d go looking for a cafe for brekkie, but a quick browse of Google Maps showed a Denny’s not too far away. If I had a nickel for every American chain restaurant that’s present in New Zealand but not in Australia… I’d have two nickels (hello Wendy’s), which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that I’d have any nickels at all. From the one review I remember seeing, I expected great things from Denny’s. It was… ok. Much like 3.6 roentgen of radiation: not great, not terrible. The food was good (apart from the rather anemic poached eggs) and the free filter coffee was a nice touch, but none of it was particularly spectacular. I’d still go back if given the chance.

I returned to my hostel and started putting together a shopping list, which ended up being quite hard. On my previous hikes, I had the benefit of planning out all my meals at home. I knew what I was going to eat every night, meaning I could avoid carrying unnecessary food. I don’t have that luxury over here. For example, instant ramen is classic hiker cuisine, I ate it for two nights each on Carnarvon and the GOW. As such, I packed two packets of noodles. But they come in packs of five from the supermarket. And the first section of the trail (i.e.: the number of days in between resupplies) is only 4 days. And I want to have some variety in the food I’m eating every night. In short, I will have to carry more food than I need, which I’m not exactly the most happy about but there’s nothing I can really do about it.

No matter, it’ll just mean I won’t have to buy as much food for the next leg. Anyway, besides the food conundrum, the only other highlight from this day was a short train ride to Newmarket. I didn’t have any reason to go there apart from wanting to go on the trains. There just happened to be several outdoor equipment stores nearby that I could buy stuff from.

The day after, I went to a proper cafe for breakfast and had an excellent bagel and a proper coffee. Because I had done the majority of my shopping the day prior, I figured I’d explore more of this city. Well, when I say “explore”, I mean play disc golf. That meant first heading to the RPM Discs warehouse in Onehunga, buying a few discs, then heading north to Henderson Park where the course is.

Now, one of the golden rules of multi-day hiking/backpacking is that you should only carry what is necessary. Excess weight will slow you down, increase the risk of injury, and generally mean you’ll have a worse time on track. And I’ve just added 500g of plastic to my bag. There’s no good way to justify that, I just wanted to play disc golf. I figured it was worth it because I would be stopping by several excellent courses along my journey and it would be nice to have the ability to play them. I didn’t play my best (definitely the wind’s fault and nothing to do with my lack of skill), but I still had a good time.

Grabbing a few small items from the shopping centre at Henderson, I hopped back on the train, taking it all the way back to central Auckland. Again, not the most efficient route, but I wanted to have a long train ride. That seems to be a common pattern in my travel plans, foregoing the straightforward option to take one more memorable. Once back at the hostel, I made myself dinner and packed away my food. Before heading to bed, there was one last thing I wanted to do. See, this hostel has a working typewriter which can be used to write letters to your family which can then be sent anywhere in the world for free. What I’m trying to say is, mum, dad, Eli, there should be a little something in the mail for you in the coming days.

We’ve finally arrived at today, the 27th of October. Not a particularly jam-packed day, all I had to do was hop on a coach to Kaitaia. It just happens that said coach takes 7 hours to reach Kaitaia. You know what that means? A nice, early wake up in order to get to the terminal by 7:30!

As soon as the doors closed and we hit the road, the heavens opened up as they so often do in Aotearoa. I didn’t mind it raining today, what I did mind was what the forecast was predicting for the next few days. It was bleak.

A couple days ago, a tropical cyclone smacked Vanuatu and was not heading south. It’s since weakened to a tropical low, but it’s still expected to give Northland a good drenching. Which leaves me with a dilemma. I want to arrive in Palmerston North before Christmas so I can spend it there with my family, and my current schedule has me arriving on the 21st. As such, I don’t exactly want to delay my journey if I can avoid it.